The Surrogate
by TMBlue
Summary: COMPLETE! In the midst of The Lavender Row of 1996/1997, Ron is unable to comfort Hermione himself when he overhears her crying. And so, instead, he elects a surrogate.


**_A/N: _**_Just a little oneshot I wrote this morning. I had this idea a few weeks ago, for a moment between Ron and Luna, but I was inspired to go ahead with it after reading KariAnn1222's "The Waiting Place," which heavily features the Ron/Lavender Era of 1996-1997... :)  
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* * *

**The Surrogate**

_**28th February, 1997...**_

He really couldn't do this, not any of it. None of his options were worth thinking about anymore because they were all, at the moment, equally shitty.

His name was linked inextricably to Lavender Brown's. He was standing outside the door to the second floor girls' toilets. And he had a permanent knot now, buried in the pit of his stomach, twisted more painfully by every sob emanating from the other side of that door.

And it had less than nothing to do with Lavender Brown...

Well, now that just simply was not true. Was it?

He would recognize Hermione's sobs anywhere, even though she'd only let him hear her once or twice. And even then, it hadn't been her fault. He'd overheard her crying in the infirmary at the end of last year, after they'd returned from the Department of Mysteries... after Sirius had died. And he'd heard her again, over the summer, at Grimmauld Place, but she'd pulled herself together rather quickly then, probably noting the way he'd looked at her... He could remember the way it had felt, seeing her break down and not having a sodding clue what to do about it. And he'd been sure that she could sense his hesitation and discomfort at the scene he'd witnessed.

But this. He'd never heard anything _quite _like this before. And the agonizing truth was that he was almost certain that he knew exactly why she was crying today, though he swallowed against every thought, every word of acknowledgement. Because it wasn't bloody fair. It wasn't fair that now, of all times, things would start to make sense. Now that he'd fucked up as badly as he had...

Her wails echoed slightly off the walls of the loo beyond, and he cringed as he turned to lean his back against the stone wall to the left of the door, shutting his eyes. A part of him almost wished that someone would show up, walking innocently down the halls, to give him a distraction, a way to break his trance. Because as it was, he wasn't likely to be able to leave, and he needed to be able to, didn't he? Surely she'd only be even more traumatized by his presence here if she found him. Alone. In the middle of this empty corridor. _Listening _to her.

How and when had he turned into such an arse? He'd made fun of her again. And he certainly knew what had happened the last time he'd done it, really. The last time he'd made her feel like shit just for being different. But wasn't that exactly what she fought against? And if he was good, at all like he hoped he was, then wasn't he supposed to be fighting along side her?

He recalled the troll he'd fought by Harry's side, just beyond this door, and the way her tiny face had peeked out from behind a mass of hair, tears still staining her face as the teachers had arrived...

This was shit. And he wanted to scream. Or punch something. He opened his eyes and flailed slightly against the stone behind him, ramming his head a bit too hard into the wall. But he hardly registered the pain as he clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut again as her sounds grew smaller, softer... choked off by unsteady breaths.

"Ron?" and his eyes flew open to stare across the corridor at Luna Lovegood. He hadn't even heard her approaching.

"Luna, hi," he said, weakly, and he watched as her eyes flicked to the girl's loo door.

"Is that Hermione in there?" Luna asked, far too loudly. Ron pushed away from the wall and took Luna gently by the elbow, steering her on down the corridor until he deemed them far enough out of range of being able to be overheard.

And then it occurred to him. His eyes widened as he watched Luna turn her head back towards the sounds of Hermione's continued cries, now much softer and muffled from this distance.

"Is she alright, Ron?" Luna asked, almost dreamily, before she turned to look up at him again.

"Luna, can you do me a favour?" Ron asked, almost breathless with his idea.

"To help you with Hermione?" and Ron gawked down at her, once again floored by her ability to completely pinpoint a situation in mere seconds. If only he had her uncanny skills, once in a while...

"Yeah, exactly," Ron said, nodding. "She's really upset, but she's also really upset with _me_."

"Ron," Luna began, slowly, looking almost sorry to have to tell him, "don't you think maybe those two things are actually the _same _thing?"

He sighed out a long, low breath, closing his eyes briefly again. He could count on Luna for this. He knew that he could. In fact, she seemed the only person he _could _count on for this, right now.

"Yes," he said as he opened his eyes again, "I do think so."

"I thought you might," Luna said, sadly, and Ron nodded again, chewing on his lip. "You want me to talk to her, don't you?"

Ron almost laughed at Luna's quick conclusions, smiling down at her with relief.

"Would you?"

"Of course," she said, brightly, shuffling the books in her arms and moving to slip them into the colourful, patched bag over her shoulder.

"I just..." Ron continued, "I know she doesn't want to see me. But I feel awful." Her sobs resounded again, as if she could hardly contain them. "I mean, listen to her!"

"It's heartbreaking," Luna agreed, and Ron sighed again.

"Anyway, I thought, maybe, that you could... sort of... take my place? Because I can't go in there. She'd probably hex me on sight. And anyway, I don't really know what I could say to her. But you always seem to understand people," and he turned his head slightly to the side, as if contemplating Luna in a new light. "We're sort of... in the middle of a massive row, me and Hermione. But... I don't like hearing her so upset because of me..." and he nearly blushed at his own words, even here with Luna, who probably already bloody well knew that he was in _serious _love with Hermione, anyway... In fact, Luna had probably known since before _he _had. Blimey...

"So," Luna said, after a moment, "you want to still be in a row with her, but you want her to be alright with it?"

Ron blinked, suddenly feeling awkward and slightly mental.

"Well, it sounds really barmy when you simplify it like that..." he trailed off, cringing.

"It's okay," Luna smiled. "I've got it," and she was already turning around to skip off towards the loo. But Ron reached out a hand to stop her.

"Wait, Luna. Just... don't mention that I had anything to do with it, yeah?" he requested, feeling nervous with his plan all of a sudden. "Just cheer her up, tell her jokes or something, right? Make her laugh."

"I've got it," and Luna nodded. "You want me to pretend to be you without actually telling her that's what I'm doing or mentioning your name to her at all, if I can help it-"

"Blimey," Ron chuckled, "you're really putting this into perspective."

"Don't worry, Ron. I know what to do," she said, suddenly turning quite serious... frankly, more serious than he could ever remember seeing her. Outside of the DA, at least.

"Thank you," Ron breathed, and Luna nodded, turning around again to head back down the corridor to the girls' toilets. She slowed for only a moment, as she arrived at the door, before she reached forward and pushed the door open, slipping silently inside.

Ron stood frozen to his spot, listening. Hermione's sobs ceased quite suddenly, and he heard Luna's soft voice, though he couldn't make out what she was saying. At last, with silence ringing once more around him, he could turn away. But he left the corridor with a knot still tightly twisted in the pit of his stomach, but with much less unrestrained rage and guilt.

* * *

Dinner was quiet, and both Luna and Hermione were missing, something he was both extremely nervous about and incredibly grateful for. Surely they were still together. At least Hermione was not alone.

Finally, as he was leaving the Great Hall, Luna stopped him and tugged him behind a tapestry, away from the eyes and ears of the students currently chatting and laughing their way along the hallways towards their dormitories.

"She's feeling much better now. She says thank you, and she feels the same way," Luna said, looking up into Ron's curious eyes.

"Th-thank you?" he questioned, eyes darting as he considered what this could mean. "And what do you mean 'feels the same way'?"

"Now you can be Ron again, and I'll go back to being me," Luna smiled, ignoring his questions.

"She told _you _thank you, for talking to her?" Ron asked, needing clarification.

"Perhaps," Luna said, lightly, "but I was playing _you_, after all. I told her the truth, as _you _know it. And I think she knew who she really wanted to thank."

And with no more words or even a pause for Ron to work up something to say in response, Luna squeezed his arm in a friendly, reassuring way and brushed past him, back out into the chaos of the corridor beyond, leaving Ron to a frantically beating heart, and a lightness settling in his chest, something that had been a stranger to him these past few months.

It felt like every time Hermione had touched him skin to skin, that mad kiss she'd given him before his Quidditch game last year... or the way her hand had just sort of _found _his for a split second when she'd needed him to know she would be okay, after Sirius...

Something was renewed and strengthening bit by bit, and he leaned against the wall, hidden here behind this tapestry, thinking that maybe he had options after all. Maybe... she _wouldn't_ hate him forever.

And he knew now, with some kind of certainly, that the uncomfortable feeling that remained through it all, the crux of Hermione's tears in the first place, had quite a lot of _something _to do with him...

And maybe, if he really thought about it, just a _little_ bit of something to do with Lavender Brown…


End file.
